The Hawk & His Queen
by EliadetheAkuma
Summary: Amaris Blakewood is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Clint Barton's "partner". She acts as a protector for Nick Fury, the director and has one of the sharpest eyes on Earth, formerly being a target for the Russian mafia. However, she has fallen in love with her partner, something that she isn't supposed to do. Is there a chance for her and Clint? Or will they never be together?
1. When It All Began

_**The Hawk and His Queen**_

_When It All Began_

Amaris Blakewood walked through the aircraft of S.H.I.E.L.D, placing one boot after another. She was searching for her "partner" of sorts, Clint Barton a.k.a Hawkeye. He was probably in his quarters which were located closer to the top of the aircraft, or hiding somewhere in the rafters. She'd already checked several places including: the meeting room, the upper levels of the control base, and even the laboratory, considering it was rather high up. But still, she could not find him.

She wondered where he was but didn't think on it too much. She had a job and she had to do that job, regardless of anything. As part of her job, she followed Fury's orders and that was why she was looking for Barton. Fury had requested his presence at the control base and since no one could really find him, he had sent Amaris since she could easily find him because of how well she knew him.

It was exhausting though, since she was mostly going on a goose chase considering it would be a while 'till she found him. She'd been trying the radio but that wasn't working either. He wasn't responding, which made her believe he had removed his earpiece. With a deep breath, she continued down the hall, glancing around as she searched for his quarters.

When she found it, she stopped and gently knocked, leaning her body against the frame. When he didn't respond, she opened the door and entered, glancing around. The room was empty for the most part, considering it lacked furniture and the only thing in the room was a makeshift bed of blankets and sheets on the floor, close to a window. Makes sense of Barton to do that.

It was a fact that she knew Barton maybe a little too well. After all, she _was_ an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D and she wasn't meant to have connections to others, especially those within the organization and especially Barton. Barton was a male agent and she was, duh, a female agent and she knew that if they got too close, a romantic connection might be thought to be present.

It would be halfway true of course, considering she swore she was in love with the arrow-shooting agent. She knew it was wrong for her to love him though, considering that she was an agent and so was he. It was just her job not to fall in love and she had, which had made her wonder if she should quit but seriously, quitting this organization? Who could do that?

It had all began when she first joined S.H.I.E.L.D after Fury had approached her in Russia. What was she doing in Russia? Hiding from the mafia and trying to start her life over. He gave her that chance, the chance to start over and to begin a new life. She could never thank him enough for that, even by serving him and saving his life repeatedly.

Maybe that would be enough for someone else, but that wasn't enough for her. No way. To repay that kind ofdebt, there was going to be a lot of things done for Fury, considering that he had totally changed her life and opened her eyes to the possibilities.

Barton had done a lot for her as well, showing her the "ropes" when she'd joined as the new agent. He'd also helped her improve her shot and aim (though she was already really good). That was something that had really set her on her path, as she quickly found herself getting higher and higher on the chain of command until she was just beneath Maria Hill.

Sometimes, she missed Russia and its snowy climate that had been so comfortable and "home" to her. She'd never had a family or a home for that matter, but had grown up in Moscow, thus making her Russia her home. Her childhood hadn't been all that great but she still treasured it as what made her who she was today and even who she was in the future. The past is the key to unlocking the present and the future, she told herself and anyone she met, to have a future, you need to have a past.

With a deep sigh, she exited the room and reentered the hallway only to slam right into someone.

"Whoa, hey, Blakewood."

Recognizing the voice, she took a step back and looked up at the man, looking over his handsome features before finally speaking.

"Barton, Fury wants to see you. He's in the control room. He couldn't reach you on your radio so he sent me."

"Oh, I apologize. I took my earpiece out for a while. My apologies, Amaris." He replied, turning to head down the hallway.

"It's fine." She replied, hopping a step to catch up to him and eventually falling into step with him.

There was mostly silence as they walked down the hallway toward the control room, until Barton finally spoke.

"You gonna take a trip to Russia?" He asked, rubbing his shoulder gently as he walked.

"No. Fury needs me to be with him when he goes on that mission in August." She told him, unzipping her camouflage vest a bit so she could breathe a bit easier and be more comfortable. She adjusted the nylon finger-less gloves on her hands and breathed deeply. "I don't get vacations."

"I know; me either. Maybe he'll have a mission in Moscow soon." Barton tried to cheer her up a bit.

"Maybe." She responded, adjusting the arsenal belt on her camouflage pants that held bullet packs, knives and two guns, one on each hip. Barton noticed then just how many guns she carried: there was four guns strapped to her legs, one on each; the two guns on her hips; a smaller six-shooter-like one strapped to her left ankle; and two strapped to her upper arms, one on each. That many made her feel comfortable and at ease, which made Barton wonder what exactly she experienced in her childhood. It must have been pretty damaging.

"Amaris?" He questioned.

"Yes?" She responded.

"What happened to you in Moscow?"

"Lots of things I wished hadn't."

He chose not to inquire about it any further and set his eyes on the control room, which they had finally reached the door to.

"Amaris?" He asked again.

"Yes?" She replied once more, annoyance not even mildly present in her voice as she shifted her weight to her left side, forcing her to lean and one knee to straighten.

"Thank you." It came out like a soft whisper or murmur maybe, but she heard and he knew she had when she smiled and placed a hand on her belt.

"You're welcome, Clint."


	2. Darkness, Part 1

The sound of rough punching filled the gym, echoing loudly in the huge space. It was empty, except for a single person standing by a large, black punching bag hanging on a rusty, creaky chain. Within moments, she began to punch the bag harshly.

"_Are you having nightmares?"_

She increased the power of her punches, beginning to impress on the material of the bag. Eyes opening and closing rapidly, she focused on her thoughts, releasing her frustration.

"_Yes."_

She ducked down suddenly and struck a right hook on the punching bag before standing and continuing to strike the bag.

"_Frequently or not often?"_

She wiped the sweat from her face in a few seconds and then continued striking the bag.

"_Frequently."_

"_What of?"_

She breathed deeply through her mouth, memories flashing through her mind.

"_Mission 10456."_

"_And what did this mission entail?"_

"_The infiltration of the Russian mob in Moscow, Russia."_

"_And what happened there that gives you nightmares?"_

"_The killing of 124 mobsters."_

She stopped suddenly. She panted for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath. She set her shoulders and gently popped her neck. She then returned to her stance, her bandaged fists up in front of her chest and her feet firmly placed on the ground.

"_Hey, sweetie pie, what can I get cha?" _

"_Something good."_

"_Which would be?"_

"_I'll let you decide that."_

She stopped again, remembering the loving blonde woman she had met while on the mission that still gave her nightmares. She wiped her eyes, breathing deeply. She stretched, feeling her muscle ache more strongly than before.

"_It's my understanding that you met a woman of only nineteen years of age while on this mission. It also appears that you have stated that she appears in your nightmares often. Why is this?"_

"_Because we became very close in the time I was stationed in Moscow and she became an informant. The Russian mob found out she was an informant. They proceeded to torture and shoot her to death. The final report indicated that she had been tortured for 052 hours and she had been beaten before being shot 4 times."_

"Still having nightmares then?" A familiar voice interrupted her, causing her to stop punching the heavy bad and gently turning to the man. He was tall with dark skin and eyes, and a black patch over his left eye. She gave him a smile.

"Yes, sir."

"So you practice when you can't sleep?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. I have been out of the field for six years." She pulled her black hair up in a bun. "I am getting a little bit rusty."

He chuckled, something uncommon for the man.

"I would like to bring you in." He responded, making her stiffen and slowly turn to him.

"Combat conditions?" She questioned, raising a black eyebrow.

"I cannot promise no combat but I can promise a mostly peaceful environment. Your partner will be Hawkeye."

She smiled and turned away from him, unwrapping the bandaging around her hands, starting with her left hand. Fury knew that his final statement would seal the deal. She didn't know how exactly he knew that, but she decided not to think on it too much.

"What is the mission?" She questioned, setting the bandaging down in the black gym bag.

"Protect the Tesseract."

"The blue cube that I shot at, nearly getting us all killed."

He smiled. "Correct."

"We currently have a situation and me and Hill are headed there now. Do you accept?"

"Yes." Was her response, lifting the heavy gym bag onto her shoulder and exiting. "I'll dress and be out to the helicopter. Give me five."

"Agent Blakewood!" He called, causing her to stop and turn.

"Yes, sir?"

"I talked with your physiatrist. Your visits with Dr. Santiago are no longer required."

"Thank you, sir."


End file.
